• Frownland



    A filthiest ambivalence, seduced in the pitiful textures of celluloid. It's a rupturing malaise; a dirty, galactic intercourse of self destructive turmoil; a bruisingly honest enpathy to the internally defeated - wouldn't expect anything less from the third Safdie brother!

  • Uncut Gems

    Uncut Gems


    Transaction and holy talisman, a wuthering lottery besets the cursed.
    Obsession appraises the odds, taking the liberty of euphoria to wage and gamble. Glazed eyes that scout feverish ideals in conflict with eyes that fixate to recompense, every gesture is quivered, testing and invested. Hands that tremble in bidding; language so terse; contempt annihilating into caprice. Setting burden as currency; galvanising in terse rhapsody, falling through the gossamer of a baseless dream. Fleeting, as with every rapture that's embroiled; simmering in the exchanges of reward - woken into reality by the payout of fate.

    2019...what a quality year for film!

  • Miami Vice

    Miami Vice


    Colin Farrell is the coked up personification of a golden retriever in this. Father's day essential viewing.

  • Men



    We really just witnessed the totally uncalled for inception and relieving deconstruction of 'pick me boy' cinema in one hour and 40 mins!

  • The Blood of a Poet

    The Blood of a Poet


    An entropy of divinity and detail - fugue, form and aesthetics espoused in metaphor. Of artist's affliction, an odyssey caught in the dimensions of infirmity, deceit, and immorality; festering on the pale imagery of fascination. An artifact so kitsch in its mercy, the engagement of pretension - in the accomplished exposition of transcending vanity. Each material, process, and procedure, expression in the realm of fractured mind; skirmished in the conflict of ambition and ingenuity. The perpetual torture of thoughts, in bitter gall and liberty, the fabrics of oneiric humanity - all aroused in violent dreaming and plagued fate.

  • The Fly

    The Fly


    I mean when Bart turned into a fly in Treehouse Of Terror VIII - it was my favourite Simpsons episode; cinema was made, simply, with the affinity of turning boys into flys to absolute perfection!

  • Song of Avignon

    Song of Avignon


    Perhaps one of the most intimate films to ever exist; aching, ailing, and feeling nothing. A melancholy to espouse in the spectator, an instrument of visual vitality to the lustre of purpose; even perhaps, to feel loved in sanguine textured times. A syntax of reticence and beauty of imagery, empathy that communicates in 24 frames of a second - a beating heart of hope on the delicate rendering of human condition. Completely annihilating.

  • Eyes Wide Shut

    Eyes Wide Shut


    A gossamer of desire; afflicting repression embroiled into ailing intimacy.

    Insidious sensation withering in haste, tenuous to compassion; eroticism concerned in flesh and body, averse to tranisent affair. A maelstrom of sexual fragility; textures of fantasy and rapture through imagery of a nightmare; euphoric vice depicted as liberty in the shackles of fidelity. Turmoil to devotion, impotent in stimulation -- primal disciplines of virulence, lust, abuse and power simmers in debauchery. In melancholy to deviant tenderness, anguished in truths, supposed of people unable to love - strangers in each others clinical feeling. False valentines; carnal temptation, forever.

  • Mission: Impossible III

    Mission: Impossible III


    There's a point in this where Tommy disguises as, and assumes the role of Phillip Seymour Hoffman; it all makes sense, he just wanted to know what it felt like to be the the master of Scientology - my man, Lancaster Dodd!

  • Mission: Impossible II

    Mission: Impossible II


    There is something quite majestic about Tom Cruise with shaggy hair; especially the way it flops around when he starts performing elaborate jiu jitsu following an extensive motorcycle joust with guns. It really is a beautiful excess, all of this.

    "That punk put a hole in my versace!"

  • Collateral



    Phantoms that exist as half entities in the subterranous texture of night's coverage, destined by odyssey - ambitions of wound and fulfilment pledged. Insanity that maims over the husk of the prescient dead; disciplined by contract, conditioned to fatality, a mirage of the living. Time is a precious entropy, untaken by liberty, often stolen by circumstance - seizing authority to a life you have yet to live. Yet it's only under twilight sky, by fleeting chance, that insanity and time collide in trajectory - ready to wither and flourish through death and resurrection. An urban maelstrom, rendered in sublime myth - perpetual in midnight ecstacy.

  • Top Gun: Maverick

    Top Gun: Maverick


    LONG LIVE DAD CINEMA; purest blockbuster filmmaking back like it never left!